


Cat Got Your Tongue?

by bittlebunny (american_homos_story)



Series: Assorted AUs [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff and Crack, M/M, and Zimbits rule the land, in which Kent is lowest of the low
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/american_homos_story/pseuds/bittlebunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent Parson isn’t expecting to hear back from the royal palace when he responded to the advertisement that went out to the kingdom. He expected even less to actually <em>get</em> the job. So when he receives a letter informing him that he has been hired by King Eric himself, Kent is a little awestruck. He’s a peasant. A nobody. But he’s been chosen to work on royal grounds with the royal family’s animals, effective immediately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InterruptingDinosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterruptingDinosaur/gifts).



> So. Uh. This was supposed to be a short little drabble for tumblr user [legojacques](http://legojacques.tumblr.com), who won one of the slots in my fic giveaway. But then I wrote 3k and realized I was not even a third of the way through the damn plot I planned... Why am I like this lmfao... So I'm breaking it up into chapters!!! Anyway please don't take this too seriously it's like ALL CRACK. I just love cats and Kent and I haven't written enough of him so this is just gonna be fun! The original prompt is as follows:  
>  _ **When I took up the job as Royal Pet Caretaker I didn't expect to be taking care of literally 10 cats. Why do you have so many?!**_

Kent Parson isn’t expecting to hear back from the royal palace when he responded to the advertisement that went out to the kingdom. He expected even less to actually _get_ the job.

The kings sent out a request for a royal pet caretaker, someone who would be willing to be around animals for hours on end. Given that Kent’s lived on a small farm on the outskirts of the kingdom his whole life, he has plenty of experience with a variety of animals. Horses, cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, et cetera. _That_ , he hadn’t lied about.

So when he receives a letter informing him that he has been hired by King Eric himself, Kent is a little awestruck. He’s a peasant. A nobody. But he’s been chosen to work on royal grounds with the royal family’s animals, effective immediately. His mother is ecstatic. The main reason Kent even replied to the ad was his mother’s health. She had fallen ill, too ill to continue her business of washing clothes and doing chores for the more fortunate people in the area.

Initially, Kent had spent most of his time on the farm, milking cows and collecting eggs and trying to scrape together enough money to buy bread. When it started becoming increasingly difficult, he decided the only thing to do was look for higher employment. Despite being of the lowest social class and not well-educated, he had somehow been chosen.

That’s why he’s trudging through the woods at four in the goddamn morning. Without any kind of transportation, the only option is to walk. He’s never been anywhere near the palace, but he assumes a few hours should be enough time. He needs this job, his mother needs him to have this job. It pays well, and it may be their last hope to get her any kind of medical help.

Unfortunately, Kent is a little bit off when it comes to gauging the time. A few hours off. Not only does this mean hours more of walking, but also showing up late to his first day of work. He can feel every pore in his body crying, partly from the long walk, partly from the anxiety radiating from his bones. The anxiety fades momentarily when he gets his first glimpse of the castle, though. It’s enormous and elegant, and his immediate feeling is jealousy. He’s sure he could fit multiples of his own home in any given room in the palace.

He shows one of the guards the letter he received the day prior and they allow him to pass. He’s too distracted to be nervous now; another guard is leading him through the castle, and Kent is trying to take in each and every aspect of what he’s seeing. There are ornate tapestries, beautiful stained glass windows, winding staircases that stretch to the heavens. It’s everything he dreamed the castle might look like, but ten times better. And more modern.

Suddenly he’s standing in front of two dark, wooden doors that are taller than his house. That shaking feeling sinks back into every muscle as he realizes who must be inside.

“Do I look nice enough to be seeing the king?” Kent asks to nobody in particular.

The guard looks at him and simply rolls his eyes. He pushes one door open and impatiently gestures Kent to enter.

* * *

 

Kent can’t see the king immediately upon entering the room. His throne is facing away from the doors, towards the huge window that makes up the back wall of the throne room. Beyond, Kent can see more forest, a lake, and a wealthier village. They aren’t farmers there, or even merchants. There live the artists, the poets, the musicians. The people labelled talented. Kent believes his way with animals is a talent, but then again, what can he create with that.

He jumps when the door closes with a loud thud behind him. He’s alone now in the cavernous space, aside from the king himself. Now, up closer, he can see the top of the king’s head reclined on one of the armrests, his feet up on the other.

“You’re late,” the king says. His voice is a little higher than Kent had imagined, more youthful. Still, it carries a sharpness that makes his heart stutter.

“Y-yes your majesty, my deepest apologies. I misjudged travel time,” he manages to stammer.

The king is silent for a second, then he sighs and swings his feet down from off the side of the throne. Kent swallows hard as he stands up, deliberately circling around the chair to face Kent.

His first thought is _oh shit, he’s hot_. It’s so strong a sentiment that he almost slips and says it aloud. Seeing as Kent lives far from the castle and is on the bottom of the societal food chain, he’s never seen the king before. Okay, well, there was one time, years ago, when the royal family threw Prince Eric a kingdom-wide birthday party. Still, he had only seen him from a significant distance, and it was before Eric was even really a man.

Despite his height, the king is extremely intimidating. His eyes are large and kind, but after years of being on his guard around strangers, Kent can instantly read the tact and bite that lie beneath the charm. His body language is confident. His hair looks perfect. His skin is tanned and clear of any blemishes. He radiates perfection.

When he speaks again, Kent notices he has a slight accent, like the kind they have in a kingdom much further South. He thinks he remembers hearing something about his family coming from a different part of the land and coming into power farther North.

“Care to explain yourself?” the king asks, taking slow steps toward Kent.

“I, uh…” In a split second decision, he chooses to tell the truth. “I may have lied in my response to your advertisement. I don’t actually live anywhere near the palace.”

He wants to look away but fears for his life if he does so. He stares into the king’s eyes and feels them reading him. An eyebrow is raised.

“Is that so?”

Kent nods.

“Answer me with words, please,” he says. His voice isn’t malicious, but Kent still has to take a deep breath.

“Yes, your majesty. The rest of it was true, though. I have lots of experience with all kinds of animals.”

The king is standing directly in front of Kent now, sizing him up. He begins to slowly rotate around him, absentmindedly picking at his fingernails.

“Will this be a regular occurrence, mister Parson? Because I can assure you that there are hundreds of other viable options for this position.”

“No, your majesty. I’ll make sure I’m here on time from now on.”

He’s walked a half circle, and Kent is still following him with his head. He stops. King Eric now stands between Kent and the door; there’s no escape.

“Alright. I’ll give you another chance. But that’s all you’ll be getting, understand?”

Kent nods and winces, quickly adding, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Perfect. Follow me now, if you will,” Eric says, turning quickly and briskly exiting the throne room. Kent blinks and stands still for a second, shocked. He then follows after the king, trying to keep up with his quick tempo.

“Do you have any questions...Kent, was it?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right. I can’t think of any at the moment.”

“Really? None?”

Kent is still struggling to keep up with him as they traverse the winding hallways. He thinks for a moment. “Where do you keep the animals?”

“There’s a special room for them in the heart of the castle,” Eric responds matter of factly.

A room? _In_ the castle? Kent doesn’t know much about royalty, but he’s pretty sure the grounds of the castle have ample room to keep the animals outside. It doesn’t seem healthy to lock them up indoors.

“The castle is beautiful,” Kent says when he can’t think of another question.

The king shrugs. “It’s a bit stuffy for my taste. I tried to modernize as much as I could, but everything is so overstated. My husband likes it, though.”

Kent frowns. He can’t believe anybody could have anything negative to say about such a beautiful place, especially when that place is home. What he would give to live like this…

“Okay, here we are!” Eric says, stopping suddenly. Kent almost bumps into him.

They’re standing at a dead end, a single door in front of them. Kent isn’t really sure what to expect. He isn’t even sure what kind of animals he’ll be taking care of; the advertisement was oddly vague.

The king opens the door and Kent sees that just beyond it is yet another door. He gestures Kent inside and closes it behind them.

“So they don’t get out into the castle,” he explains.

Chickens? Pigs? Kent really can’t see how it would be a good idea to keep either animal indoors. Finally, Eric opens the second door and slips inside. Kent follows.

What he sees makes him laugh out loud. Cats. There are cats, _everywhere_. Climbing on little cat playgrounds, running through tunnels, batting at hanging toy fish or birds or mice. He tries to count how many he can see, but they’re all running around so fast. A few are lounging in the sunlight streaming through the large windows.

He turns to Eric. “ _Cats?!_ I was expecting horses, or cows, maybe. But,  _CATS?!_ ”

Eric laughs. “I know, it’s a little odd. I love cats, though! As does my husband. These were all strays at one point; we take all the cats we find around the castle grounds and take care of them. Get ‘em their shots, get ‘em fixed and everything! Here, let me introduce you to some!”

Kent is still reeling slightly from this strange twist but he follows the king around the room as he approaches various felines, introducing them to Kent as if they’re people and can actually understand what he’s saying. He has to admit, he occasionally talks to his own animals in the same way, but never would he go so far as to _introduce them to another human_.

He can’t remember which cat is which. The king is throwing names at him. Lardo. Chowder. Tango. Holster. There’s even one named Mr. Crappy, which Kent laughs at but doesn’t question.

Once Eric has finished introducing each cat, he pulls Kent back toward the door.

“So, this is a big job. They’re all very friendly cats, but there’s a lot of ‘em. They can be a handful. I love these little fur babies, but I was spending way too much time in this room. Jack was getting jealous of the cats, I think. Which is why I hired you! I don’t want them to get lonely.”

The intimidating ruler of the kingdom is gone now. In his place is an adorable young man who’s enthusiastic about his cats. Even his dialect has changed; he's less stately, more casual.

“Don’t you think maybe you have too many?”

Eric looks Kent dead in the face. “Do you want this job or not, Parson?”

Kent throws his hands up in surrender. “I do, your majesty. I’m sorry I questioned your kitty quantity.”

The king chuckles. “‘Kitty quantity.’ I like that! Now, on to your duties. Every day, you will feed every cat three times. You will play with each cat individually, and you will take them each on a short walk around the grounds.”

Kent holds back a laugh. He has to walk the damn cats?

“I’ve made a little guidebook for you,” Eric says, pulling a leather bound journal out of a nearby cabinet. “In here, you’ll find the names of all the cats, along with their pictures, their favorite foods and toys, and favorite spots around the castle grounds.”

He hands the book to Kent. He blinks. “How do you know so much about them? And if you’re busy ruling a kingdom, how did you have time to put together such an extensive guidebook?”

Eric blinks back. “Let’s just say that my husband tends to handle most of the actual king-type-stuff. I have time on my hands. I love cats.”

“So I’d gathered,” Kent mutters.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing! I’m just...impressed.”

Eric nods and gasps as one of the cats brushes against his leg. “Little Z, I was wondering when you were gonna wake up from your nap! Come here, big guy,” Eric coos as he picks up the sleek black cat. Kent is surprised to see the cat has crystal blue eyes.

“He’s beautiful,” Kent says as he takes a step toward Eric, who is now cradling the cat like a baby.

“Isn’t he? I named him after my husband.”

Kent frowns. Eric’s husband’s name is definitely Jack, so the ‘Z’ isn’t making much sense to him. Regardless, he takes another step forward. Kent is glad Eric is occupied with the cat, because it gives him an opportunity to stare at him and not worry about being caught.

Seeing him like this, Kent feels much more comfortable. He’s soft and kind and just so damn _cute_ that Kent sort of wishes he didn’t have a husband. He chastises himself. _Even if he didn't, why would he marry a peasant like you?_

“Do you wanna pet him?”

Kent comes back to reality to find himself looking into the king’s big brown eyes. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Eric smiles and laughs through his nose. “I asked if you wanted to pet him.”

“Oh! Um! Yeah, sure!”

Kent takes another step closer to the king, still making eye contact. Finally, he looks down and he’s greeted by a very different pair of eyes. They’re icy and stoic and they make him feel a little sad, as if he’s missing somebody…

Little Z is lying on his back in Eric’s arms, so Kent gently scratches his belly and carefully works up to his chin, holding out a limp hand for the cat to sniff. Get used to the scent. After a second of getting his scent, the cat pushes his head against Kent’s hand. Kent smiles and scratches behind Little Z’s ears, causing him to purr loudly.

Eric giggles. “Aw, he likes you! That’s a good sign.”

After a few minutes, Little Z jumps out of Eric’s arms and runs off the go play with the other cats. Eric sighs as he watches him go, as if he’s a proud father sending his son off to play on the playground. Kent can’t help but smile. The king of the land is a huge dork.

“Alright Kent, I have some other matters to attend to,” Eric says as he turns back.

“Such as?”

Oops. He has no place to be asking about the king’s schedule. He’s surprised when King Eric casually responds, “I have a lunch date with my husband. He wants to talk about finances, or something like that. I know it’s going to be boring, but at least he’s nice to look at,” Eric jokes.

Kent chuckles. This is all so bizarre. The king is talking to him as if he’s an equal, something he never could have even hoped to expect.

“I think you should be ok in here! Just follow the book and you shouldn’t encounter any problems. In case you do, just...come find me.”

“It’s a big castle,” Kent says nervously.

Eric shrugs. “The guards usually know where I am. Find one of them if you really need to get to me! And if you remember, come back to the throne room at the end of the day before I send you off.”

And with that, he’s gone.

* * *

 

Kent’s first day is hectic, but rewarding. Most of the cats warm up to him fairly quickly. Others take some time. The one named Mr. Crappy almost takes a chunk of flesh out of his arm when he tries to pet him.

Although he initially thought the cat guidebook was extraneous, he’s thankful for it now. The cabinets in the room are stocked with so many varieties of cat foods and toys, but the guide has pictures so Kent knows exactly which cat gets what, and when, even. Each cat has a detailed schedule. He finds himself giggling at the book almost every time he opens it; he just can’t believe the king would put so much thought and effort into his pets. It shows love and dedication, though, which is something he can appreciate.

Things go awry during his fourth walk of the day. He has Ransom the cat on his leash and he’s exploring the grounds himself, trying to become familiar with the surroundings so he can more easily plan routes for the other cats’ walks. When they reach the courtyard with the fountain in the center, Ransom almost wriggles out of his leash. He starts to hiss and arch his back and Kent holds on tight and crouches down, trying to see what’s upsetting him.

Huddled up against the fountain is a small cat, dirty and mangy. Kent can’t quite tell, but he thinks it may be female. Despite the grime, he’s sure the cat is white.

“It’s alright, Ransom. Just another stray. You were like that too, once, you know?”

Ransom isn’t listening. Instead, he’s making low rumbling noises. Kent rolls his eyes and starts to tug him away.

“Stay right there little girl, I’ll be back for you later!” he gently calls to the small cat. She turns toward the sound of his voice, frantic and terrified, but doesn’t move.

* * *

 

Once he’s walked every cat, he sneaks out of the cat room and back out onto the grounds. He’s praying the little cat is still in the same place, because it would be a shame for her to remain a stray. Sure enough, she’s still huddled up against the fountain. From what he can tell, she’s asleep at the moment.

He crouches down at a considerable distance, considering the options. Ransom had _not_ liked this little cat, and what if some of the others didn’t either? She was just a kitten, there was no way she would survive in that room. He sighs. Maybe he should tell the king… No, just the thought of going to find him makes his stomach start to twist into knots.

He’s going to take her home.

He waits until she wakes up, because the last thing he wants is to wake her up and spook her. He grins as she yawns and stretches in the late afternoon sunlight. She spots him but doesn’t seem to be afraid, now that Kent isn’t accompanied by a large hissing cat.

Kent shuffles slightly closer, _so_ slowly, never breaking eye contact. She blinks at him and licks her paw, still not moving. Finally, he plops down on the cold stone and holds out a hand. Her ear twitches and she mewls. She approaches cautiously. Kent stays as still as the stone beneath him.

Finally, her head makes contact with the back of his fingers and she pushes her face against them, trilling. Kent smiles as she presses against his hand enthusiastically, then crawls right into his lap. He starts to pet her as she curls up and begins to purr.

“You remind me of myself, little girl. You’re a little dirty, and maybe a little lost, but you still have hope for the future. And you’re not afraid, that’s for sure. I think I’m gonna name you after me…” He thinks for a second, biting his lip. “Kit! Kit Purrson! Hey, Kit, do you want a home? I can bring you home with me!”

She meows and looks up at him, almost as if responding.

“Excellent. I’m gonna have to sneak you out of here, and we have a long walk home, but it’ll be worth it! Just as long as you’re happy,” he says, kissing the top of her head. Maybe not the best idea. He’d forgotten what dirt tastes like.

After a few moments of introduction, Kent carefully scoops Kit out of his lap and into his shirt.

“You’re gonna have to behave, alright? If they find us out, it could mean trouble.”

She trills at him and curls up into a ball as he gets onto his feet.

“Alright, then. Let’s go home, little girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter on Tumblr: ([X](http://bittlebunny.tumblr.com/post/144893061128/cat-got-your-tongue-chapter-1))


	2. II

The stealing was never part of the plan. Once he brought Kit home, though, Kent realized that he didn’t have the kind of money to pay for a cat. So his solution is to take things from the cat room.

He only sneaks the bare essentials: a can of food here and there, a toy or two, a few scoops of litter when needed. It’s harmless, really. The palace keeps the shelves stocked, so he’s hoping nobody will notice if anything goes missing. Plus, it’s not like the kings are at any loss for money.

* * *

 

A month goes by. The work isn’t hard, but getting up early enough to get to the palace every day is torture. When he gets home, he barely has time to catch up with his mother and play with Kit before he collapses from exhaustion. Still, knowing that he’s supporting his small family is enough to keep him going. Kit is amazing, too. She’s so playful and vocal, and well behaved to boot. He’s glad he has another person —well, cat—to keep him company at home. As much as he loves his mother, she just doesn’t have the energy to be cheerful anymore.

Another incentive is getting to spend time with the king. Every so often, King Eric will come into the cat room while Kent is on duty. For a while, he doesn’t say much to Kent. Just lets him work. Eventually, he starts to initiate conversations.

“So, Kent, where did you say you were from again?”

“It’s a little village, your majesty. On the outskirts of the kingdom.”

Eric waves his hand impatiently as he picks up a cat. “Yes, which village?”

Kent stares at him for a second. “I doubt you’ve heard of it, your majesty.”

“Mister Parson, I know about every single village in this kingdom, practically every single street. Which village?” he repeats.

“Oh. I live in Vegas Village, sir.”

The king’s eyes widen. “Did you say you’ve been walking to work, Parson?”

He nods as he puts a toy back onto its shelf.

“All the way from Vegas?”

Nods again.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can arrange for some transportation for you!”

Kent almost drops the can of food he’s just opened. He turns to the king and starts to stammer, “What, I, uh, you’d do that?”

Eric beams as the cat jumps down from his arms. “Of course! As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of my most important employees.”

Kent opens his mouth to say something, tries to stammer his gratitude, but no sound comes out.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Eric laughs. Kent tries to laugh with him, but he’s still a little thrown. “I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you,’ Parson.”

“Uh, yes, thank you, your majesty. I can’t even begin to express how grateful — ”

Eric cuts him off with another wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal,” he says, exiting the room.

It  _ is _ a big deal though, at least to Kent. To have the king himself pay so much attention to him is overwhelming. He’s only snapped back to reality when Mr. Crappy starts scratching at his leg, meowing angrily. Kent is still holding his open can of food.

* * *

 

Kent doesn’t have to wake up as early anymore. That’s probably the best part of the new arrangement. He gets more sleep. Every morning, a carriage picks him at the edge of his village, and drops him off in the same spot in the evening. He finds that he can enjoy the job even more when he isn’t dying of sleep deprivation.

He also finds that the king is spending more and more time in the cat room. He starts to learn things about him, realize things about him. For one, he’s even younger than Kent is. He doesn’t actually like being king that much, because it’s a lot of responsibility. It’s one of the reasons he’s so grateful for his stoic, responsible husband.

Kent starts getting comfortable enough to ask questions. How did Eric and Jack meet? How long had they been married? As someone in the lower class, he isn’t as attuned to all of these details. They’ve only been married about a year, and Eric doesn’t really go into how they met. He assures Kent that the marriage wasn’t arranged, though. He loves his husband dearly.

Another thing Kent notices is how flirty the king is, despite the fact he’s happily married. He’ll graze by Kent and “accidentally” make contact. He almost never breaks eye contact, Sometimes he says things that Kent can only interpret as flirting, but he supposes  _ could _ mean something else.

“Little Z is my favorite cat, so it’s good that he likes you,” Eric says one day.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it means I’m allowed to like you too,” he says with a wink.

Kent doesn’t know how to respond to these little remarks. He often does feel like one of the cats has really stolen his tongue; he trips on his words, his face gets all red, and his heartrate shoots through the roof whenever the king is around.

* * *

 

About two months in, Eric calls Kent into the throne room right before he’s about to leave for the day. He sits him down in a folding chair in front of the throne and looks him dead in the eye.

“Now that we’re friends,” Eric starts, “there’s something we need to discuss.”

Kent hates mystery. He feels like someone is squeezing his stomach, and every muscle in his body is buzzing with anxiety. Aside from the ominous “we need to talk,” the king had referred to him as a friend.  _ A friend _ .

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kent?”

“No, your majesty, I — ”

“That was a rhetorical question. And please, stop saying that. It’s Eric.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You’ve been taking things.”

Kent’s eyes widen. His body is rigid. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, hoping he can maybe lie his way out.

Eric just rolls his eyes. “Besides me, you’re the only person in this castle who has access to the cat room. I’m practically omniscient when it comes to what goes on in there. I notice when things are missing. A can of food here, a toy there, you know.”

He’s panicking now, his eyes stinging from tears of fear.

“Eric, I —”

“Just explain to me, Kent. I’m sure you have a reason?”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “I found a stray cat my first day here. She was so small and I was afraid that the other cats wouldn’t like her, so I just...took her home. But the money I make from this job is only enough to feed my mother and myself, so I figured that a couple cans of food wouldn’t be missed here. I tried to take the cheap stuff too. I just—” He’s really crying now, afraid he’s about to lose his job.

The king stands up and approaches Kent. He kneels down in front of him and does the unexpected. He takes Kent’s hand. “Why didn’t you just tell me? All of those other cats were strays, once, I told you that. We could have taken her in.”

Kent sniffles. “I was too scared, I guess.”

“Of what?”

“You,” Kent says, looking down at the floor.

Eric snorts. “Me? I’m not scary!”

Kent wipes his eyes and gives him a look. “You can be very intimidating, Eric. Especially for someone like me, who’s never had any kind of interaction with authority. I never know how to act around you, if I’m honest.”

Eric shrugs. “I’m sorry if I came off that way. I really am sweet though,” he says, winking at Kent and standing back up. “So, you bring this cat in tomorrow. We’ll make sure she’s clean and healthy, and then she can stay in the cat room.”

“Are you sure? I can bring her here?” As much as Kent enjoys having Kit at his home, he knows she can have a much better life at the palace.

“Of course I’m sure! The more the merrier, I always say. So we’ll just—”

What Kent does next surprises even himself. He stands up and kisses Eric, full on the lips. Eric’s eyes widen, but then what surprises Kent  _ even more _ is how they slowly close and  _ he kisses him back _ .

Kent pulls away, gasping. “Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry, that was so inappropriate, oh my god…”

Eric chuckles in disbelief, looking a little off balance. “Um,” is all he can say.

Kent starts to back away, tripping on the chair as he goes. “So I’ll just, uh, bring Kit Purrson in tomorrow, okay? Okay. Bye,” he says in one breath, turning and practically sprinting out of the throne room.

The last thing he hears from Eric is, “You named the cat after yourself?!”

* * *

 

Kent is surprised at how well Kit gets along with the other cats. For the most part, anyway. And for the ones she doesn’t get along with, she can certainly hold her own in a fight.

The king had arranged for a veterinarian from the nearby village to come and check up on her, and once she was cleared, Kent brought her into the cat room.

Now, he’s writing in the cat book, adding a page just for her. He had thought it strange how much Eric knew about his cats when he first saw the book, but after taking care of Kit for a few months, he can understand knowing so much.

He’s making finishing touches when he hears the door open. His heart stops beating, he thinks, when he sees Eric come into the room and make a beeline for him.

Kent smiles awkwardly as he approaches. Eric doesn’t greet him; he says, “Where is she? I wanna meet her!” He’s smiling, which is a good sign, and he hasn’t fired Kent for kissing him either.

Kent finds her amongst the sea of cats and brings her back over to where Eric is waiting impatiently. He gasps when he sees Kit curled up in Kent’s arms.

“Good lord, she’s adorable,” he breathes as he starts to pet her. Kit playfully bats at his hand and Eric giggles. She rolls over and Eric scratches her belly as she purrs and pulls at Kent’s shirt.

Eric is still looking down at Kit when he asks, “Would you want to come to dinner with Jack and me tomorrow night?”

“Uh,” Kent replies, his brain short-circuiting. Eric looks up at him now.

“I realized last night that you’ve never met him. Do you even know what he looks like?”

Kent shakes his head, embarrassed. Eric chuckles.

“Exactly! So you should join us. The three of us can sit down and get acquainted.”

There’s no malice in his voice, but Kent is terrified. Is he going to mention the kiss to Jack? Was this some kind of weird plot to humiliate him before firing him? He can’t see that happening though; Eric is too nice. Plus, he can’t exactly say no to a meal with the kings of the goddamn nation, so he just closes his mouth and nods.

“Good. I’ll see you after you’ve finished work for the day, then!”

Kent nods again, not sure what to say. 

“You’re usually more talkative, Kent. Everything alright?”

“Fine,” Kent manages. Kit is squirming in his arms now.

There are a million questions running through his mind. What should he wear? Does he even have anything nice enough to eat with royalty? What if he uses the wrong spoon? Could he be fired for not knowing how to eat properly?

“Okay. Well...bye then!” Eric says, hastening out of the room, leaving Kent with a wriggling feline.

“Holy shit, Kit,” he mutters, “I think you just accidentally became the best wingman of all time…Or wingcat, I should say!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter on Tumblr: ([X](http://bittlebunny.tumblr.com/post/145016777643/cat-got-your-tongue-chapter-2))


	3. III

He’s never really been self conscious, but Kent’s never been more aware of himself than he is in this moment. He had tried to put together the nicest clothes he had, he really had tried to do something different and special with his hair. Of course, his mother had told him how nice he looked. She didn’t know about the actual occasion, though.

So now he’s walking through the hallways of the castle, of which he is now familiar, subconsciously pulling at his sleeves and his hair and his collar, trying to make himself look perfect. Really, all he’s succeeding in doing is making himself look just slightly disheveled.

The thought of entering a large, luxurious dining room to see the two rulers of the kingdom sitting at the end of a long table laden with fancy food makes his knees shake. So does the memory of his kissing Eric. And the fact that Eric’s reaction was to then invite Kent to dinner with his husband. He’s sweating, envisioning all of the bad scenarios possible. Eric might be planning to expose him to Jack, or build him up just to fire him. Was kissing the king a crime punishable by death? Would Eric do that to him?

* * *

 He’s alone in the throne room, heart racing. This is definitely where Eric had instructed Kent to meet him. Kent is a few minutes early, but he isn’t thinking rationally. Maybe this is all some prank to teach him a lesson.

No, a guard is coming in now. Kent whips around so quickly he almost stumbles. He’s still balancing himself as the guard approaches, not saying a word. She nods at Kent. Kent understands that he’s to follow her.

She leads him in a direction he’s never been, and he forgets for a moment how nervous he is as he admires things in the castle he’s not yet seen. Statues, strange architecture, more castle-typical stained glass windows, elegant rugs. They pass another guard every so often. There’s no interaction between them. It makes Kent feel uneasy.

Finally they come to a set of doors. He can hear the gentle sounds of silverware clinking against china, dishes being set down. The guard pushes the door open as he attempts to swallow the lump in his throat.

The first thing he’s taken aback by is the size of the room. It’s small. Smaller than the throne room—smaller than the cat room, even. It’s still a beautiful room of course; the carpeting is a deep red with golden designs, the chandelier from the ceiling bathes the room in warm light, and the dark wooden furniture is breathtaking. There’s no long, intimidating table. Instead, there’s a square one, larger than the one he has at home of course, but nothing particularly daunting.

There are a few waiters bustling around, lighting candles and lifting lids off silver platters. King Eric is sitting alone, staring down at his plate. His head snaps upward as Kent enters, smiling at the sight.

“Kent! Welcome!”

Kent smiles weakly, pulling out the chair opposite Eric and sitting down. The look on his face must be telling, because Eric answers the obvious question.

“Oh, Jack? Don’t you worry, he’ll be here! He had some things to attend to. I didn’t make him up, I promise, he’s real,” Eric says with a laugh.

Kent chuckles along with him, too nervous to say anything in response.

“You look nice,” Eric says, suddenly a little quiet. The server behind Eric raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he pours three glasses of wine.

“Uh. Thanks,” Kent says. His mouth is so dry. Damn it.

“Wine’s okay?”

He nods. The waiter brings him a glass and sets the other down next to Eric.

Eric nods in return, then drains half his glass and sighs.

Kent sips at his cautiously, watching the food steam in front of them. He assumes they’re waiting for Jack to arrive to actually start eating. He used to know someone named Jack. They lived in the same village for a few years when Kent was younger. It’s been a while since he thought about him.

Finally, Kent works up the nerve to say something. “Eric, I seem to recall you saying something about not liking how stuffy the castle is?”

Eric catches his eye and knits his brows together, nodding.

“This room is as stuffy as they come,” Kent says plainly.

Eric laughs. “Like I said, Kent. The lengths I’ll go to for my husband. If you know what I mean,” he adds with a wink. Kent _really doesn’t know what he means oh my god what._ He sees that Eric’s cheeks are already a little pink. The king is on his third glass, if his count is correct.

Five minutes pass in almost complete silence. Eric sighs impatiently.

“I told him not to take too long… If he isn’t here soon, I guess I’ll just have to replace him with you,” Eric jokes. "You can be my king."

Kent snorts, then blushes. Was Eric flirting with him again? He really can’t tell. He chastises himself for even hoping so. He takes a deep breath, tired of feeling like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff.

“Eric, about the other day? We didn’t really get to talk about it yet, and—”

He isn’t able to continue. The doors behind him bang open and he hears someone rush in. Eric stands and smiles, quickly glancing at Kent and urging him to do the same. Kent does so hastily, trying to wipe away the wrinkles in his shirt and straighten out his hair situation. His heart stops, though, as the new arrival passes him and heads straight for Eric.

His gait is exactly the same. He’s taller, much sturdier looking, but the way he walks hasn’t changed. While his hair is shorter, it’s still styled a little tragically, which makes Kent giggle to himself. He watches as the other king kisses Eric, sees the flash of the blue of his eyes. He puts the pieces together. Jack. ‘Little Z.’ _Shit_.

Kent is frozen in place. Eric has already started to sit down and Jack is turning to address Kent, also freezing when their eyes meet.

“Jacky?” Kent breathes.

Eric frowns, confused.

“Kenny?” Jack breathes back.

Eric’s frown deepens and he stands up again, looking back and forth between the two men.

“Don’t tell me you two know each other,” he says in utter disbelief.

Kent swallows, hard. Jack nods.

“It’s been...years. But it really is you?” Jack asks quietly.

Kent nods. Is Jack crying? Is _he_ crying? _What the fuck?_

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Bitty asks, copying Kent’s inner monologue.

“Um, Bitty, honey… It’s a long story,” Jack decides.

Eric sits down, gesturing toward the table. “Well? We’ve got time!”

Jack chuckles, still blindsided. His eyes are misty but still so, so blue. He shakes his head.

“Do you think you could give us a moment alone?”

Eric scoffs and looks from Jack to Kent and back again, comically disgruntled.

“I-I—but—fine, whatever,” he splutters. He downs another glass of wine, then stands and exits the room.

Jack sighs and kindly gestures for the servers to follow, and then suddenly it’s just Jack and Kent alone. They’re both still standing, standing still, until Kent lets out a giddy laugh and runs around the table, throwing his arms around Jack.

Then they’re both laughing and crying, drunker on emotions than Eric on wine.

Finally, Jack pushes Kent out to arm’s length, just to look at him again. Closer.

“You… You look good, Kenny.”

Kent huffs a laugh. _“I_ look good? Jack, you’re a goddamn _king._ ”

One of Jack’s hands goes to the back of his neck. He’s blushing.

“Yeah,” he says. He sounds embarrassed. His other hand drops. “How have you been, Kenny?”

He shrugs. “Things have been better. Mom’s sick, which is why I got this job in the first place.”

Jack’s face goes an even deeper shade of red. He gestures to the chairs and sits down in Eric’s vacant spot, pulling out his own chair for Kent.

“You live nearby?”

Kent opens his mouth and closes it. Shakes his head. “I’m in Vegas, Jack.”

They were supposed to live there together, once.

“Oh,” Jack says. Suddenly the tablecloth is so interesting to him. He can’t look at Kent.

“Jack,” Kent breathes, “you don’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head, still not meeting Kent’s earnest stare.

“This isn’t fair, Kenny.”

Kent sighs, leaning forward. “Sometimes things just work out differently than you planned. You don’t have to—to feel _guilty_ or anything. We’re doing just fine, Jack, my mom and me.”

Silence.

“Why me?” Jack asks. He’s so big, but his voice is small. It’s one of the things Kent loves about him. Loved.

“Stop that, really,” Kent says, laughing in spite of Jack’s distress. “You found someone you love. It’s not your fault he’s royalty.” He’s good at masking the jealousy in his voice, the frustration.

Jack shrugs. “I… I don’t think I ever really got over you, Kenny.”

Kent frowns. Thinks for a second. “Yeah,” he says back, “I don’t know if I ever got over you, either.”

Jack finally looks up at him. His eyes are rimmed red, but Kent is still so focused on the blue. He can see the resemblance between Jack and Little Z, now. Jack’s lips are turned up into a small smile. It reminds Kent of the past. What he’d give to go back.

“So, Eric?” Kent says after a moment, immediately wishing he had said _anything_ else.

Jack chuckles. “Yeah, he’s something. I don’t know what I’d do without him, though.”

“Haha,” Kent laughs awkwardly. This new information adds a whole new layer of nerves to the situation. Maybe if he’s just straight up with Jack… “You really landed yourself a cute one, didn’t you?”

The look on Jack’s face flickers for a split second, but he nods. “He’s like a fire, Kenny. He never goes out, and he burns so bright.”

“That’s for sure,” Kent agrees. “So flirty, too.”

_Fuck._ Sometimes Kent puts his foot in his mouth, and sometimes it’s the whole damn leg.

Jack sits up straighter. Kent can feel his face burning, his heart pounding. What happens now? Instead of getting angry, Jack sighs and rolls his eyes fondly.

“I should’ve figured,” he says endearingly.

“Figured what?”

“You said Eric’s been flirting with you, right?” Jack doesn’t sound mad in the slightest. Maybe somewhat exasperated.

Kent nods sheepishly. “More than that, actually. We kissed. Well, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. I’m so sorry Jack, it was a stupid thing to do but it just sort of happened and—”

And then he’s not rambling anymore, because Jack is kissing him, pulling their chairs closer. Kent releases a muffled grunt and his eyes widen. This was _literally_ the last thing he expected to happen.

He pushes away, sucking in a sharp breath. “Uh?” he says.

Jack licks his lips and laughs through his nose, shoulders shaking.

“Sorry, Kenny. You basically just gave me the go ahead when you told me that.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No,” Jack says casually. “Especially because it’s you.”

Kent blinks, running a hand through his hair. “Is this some kind of weird revenge thing? I don’t really understand…”

Jack starts to say something, then frowns. “I’m not really sure to describe it, because it’s the first time it’s actually happened. Eric and I have talked about it before, but…”

“Talked about what?”

“Polygamy,” Jack says plainly.

Kent splutters for a second, his face _very_ red. “Is _that_ what’s happening here?” If he really thinks about the events of the past few months, it does sort of make sense.

Jack shrugs. “Only if you want it to. I’m guessing that’s why Eric invited you here tonight. To talk about it. Would you…?” he starts to ask.

“I—” Kent pauses, considering it for a few minutes. Jack watches patiently. “I think so, yes. I guess we’d have to go find Eric and make sure we’re all on the same page, but I think I’d be willing to at least try—”

As if on cue, the doors open again and Eric walks in. His face is significantly less pink, now.

“Have y’all had your little moment? Can I get to my big question already?” he asks, forcing annoyance and importance into his voice.

Jack and Kent both giggle. They’ve accidentally discussed Eric’s big question without him and stolen his spotlight.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, dropping his bravado and sighing.

Jack stands up and moves to the other side of the table, wrapping his arms around Eric’s waist and kissing his temple. “You aren’t exactly subtle, my love.”

Eric blushes and looks at Kent, who shakes his head and grins apologetically.

“Damn,” he mutters. “And here I was, thinking I was all smooth and discreet…”

 

* * *

 

Kent keeps working for the kings in their cat room. No, it isn’t really work anymore. They don’t pay him; they don’t need to.

He’ll swear up and down he loves every cat equally, but he has a feeling that Jack and Eric both know the truth. He’s forever in debt to his darling, Kit, for reuniting him with an old flame and setting him up with a new one.

Before long, he has the cat book memorized.

In the first year alone, he helps the kings rescue three more strays.

They offer Kent his own room, his own hallway, even. He turns down that offer, on the condition that they offer it to his mother instead. He’s just fine sleeping in a bed with Eric and Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is...interesting...and perhaps slightly rushed? This fic was supposed to be all crack and not serious but then it got slightly real so I was like WHOAH THERE BUDDY let's avoid angst okay??  
> Fun fact: this chapter will be 800% more entertaining if you imagine Bitty as Timon in that one scene in The Lion King where Simba and Nala reunite. Inspiration, man.  
> I'm not gonna post this last chapter on Tumblr because I'm lazy!! But go leave a like/reblog on the first two if you so wish.  
> Finally, please leave me comments!! I love reading them and responding to them; it is one of my very favorite aspects of writing and posting fic. Why would I post if I didn't get to interact with my readers, ya know?


End file.
